Not Why I Hired You
by arysa13
Summary: Clarke hires Bellamy to model for her art project
**For TeamJacobLoveLexa18 who asked for "Clarke having Bellamy model for one of her paintings and it leads to other things"**

* * *

"What exactly does auditioning to be a model for someone's art project entail?" Octavia asks as Bellamy fills out his application.

"Not sure exactly. All I know is I get money if I get hired," Bellamy says absentmindedly, writing down his availability in the space provided.

"Do you have to get naked?" Octavia laughs. Bellamy pauses.

"The ad didn't _say_ nudity would be involved," he muses. "But I wouldn't be opposed to it."

"Gross," Octavia screws up her nose.

"Hey, the money's good. I'll pretty much do whatever she wants," Bellamy shrugs.

"She, huh?" Octavia smirks. "Are you just doing this because she's hot?"

"I've literally never even seen her, O," Bellamy rolls his eyes. "It's all for the money."

* * *

It turns out she is hot, however, which Bellamy isn't exactly mad about.

"Uh, hi," he says as he knocks on the doorframe of the classroom she's sitting in. "I'm Bellamy." Clarke looks up from whatever she's working on and smiles warmly at him.

"Come in," she beckons, gesturing for him to sit in the chair she's set up across the table from her. He hands her the application she'd emailed him and she scans his responses.

"So, what does this audition entail exactly?" Bellamy asks her. "Singing, dancing?" he jokes. Clarke flicks her eyes up to his, a wry smile gracing her face.

"Nothing like that," she says. She puts the application down.

"What are you looking for in a model exactly?" Bellamy asks as she studies his face.

"Someone who talks less," she says, but she's still smiling. Bellamy bites his tongue, forcing himself not to grin at her. "Basically just someone who's interesting looking. Someone who inspires me to draw." Bellamy nods. "Someone who can sit still," she grins. "I have to do a project where I have to do four different pieces using different styles, but using the same subject. I asked my friends but they all came up with ridiculous excuses."

"Even when you offered them money?" Bellamy asks with a laugh.

"I didn't offer them any money. They're my friends, they should be doing it out of the goodness of their heart," Clarke says matter-of-factly.

"Fair enough," Bellamy nods. "So, when will I hear back from you?"

"Right now," Clarke tells him. "You got the job."

"Really?" Bellamy asks, surprised and flattered.

"Well, exactly three people emailed me and you're the only one that didn't creep me out," Clarke admits. "And I kind of like you, anyway."

Bellamy can't help but beam at her.

* * *

They arrange to meet at her place the following weekend and she leads him through her fancy apartment to her art studio and Bellamy can't help but feel out of place.

"You really are rich, aren't you?" he marvels out loud.

"My parents are," Clarke corrects him. "Sit on that stool, can you?" He does as she bids and she follows him over to the stool, looking at him thoughtfully. She's dressed in ripped jeans and an oversized white shirt that already has paint splattered all over it, giving off the vibe that she's just thrown on whatever, but her hair and makeup have clearly been done, and Bellamy wonders briefly if that's for his benefit or if she'd have bothered with her hair and makeup regardless of who she was seeing. But she did say she liked him, after all.

"How long do I have to sit still for?" he asks her.

"A while," Clarke grins. "Think you can manage it?"

"I'll do my best," Bellamy promises. Clarke steps towards him and he twitches nervously under her gaze.

"Do you mind if I just… move you around a bit? It's easier than instructing you how to sit," she explains.

"Sure," Bellamy agrees easily, but he's all too aware of how good she smells and how soft her hands are as she moves him into the desired pose. He gets the urge to pull her in and kiss her, but he thinks that's probably not very good form for an art model. Clarke finally stops touching him, nodding in approval before sitting herself at her easel, her pencils at the ready. She glances at him and goes to put pen to paper, but stops abruptly.

"Is something wrong?" Bellamy asks her.

"Okay, this might be a weird request," Clarke grimaces. "But would you mind taking your shirt off?" She blushes a little and Bellamy smirks at her.

"I thought you'd never ask," he winks.

"This is why I wanted a model that doesn't talk," Clarke rolls her eyes, her cheeks still tinged pink endearingly. Bellamy removes his shirt and tosses it to the side before resuming his pose. Clarke bites her lip and stares at him, which, Bellamy knows she needs to do to be able to draw him, but he doesn't think he's reading into it too much if he thinks he sees want in her eyes.

He kind of zones out a bit after a while and only comes back to reality when Clarke tells him he can have a break.

"Do you want something to eat?" she offers. "It's about dinner time, I was thinking of ordering some Chinese or something."

"Yeah, that sounds good," Bellamy agrees.

They take their break and eat their Chinese and quickly get back to work. Bellamy purposefully sits on the stool in the wrong position.

"Bellamy, that's _not_ how you were sitting before," Clarke scolds him.

"Sorry, I can't remember how I'm supposed to sit," he shrugs and Clarke rolls her eyes at him before walking over to move him. He watches her intently as she moves him around, hesitant about touching his bare chest at first, her face blazing with colour. Bellamy takes this as a good sign. He's sure she'd be more indifferent if she wasn't attracted to him.

"Stop looking at me," she mutters and Bellamy chuckles. He moves again and Clarke glares at him. "You are the worst model. I should have hired one of the creepy guys."

"Well, that's what you get when you think with your lady parts instead of you brain," Bellamy says knowingly.

"My lady parts?" Clarke's face goes even redder. "How dare you. That's completely… I don't…" she splutters. Bellamy raises an eyebrow at her. "Oh shut up," she gives him a shove and he grabs her wrist before she can pull away, holding her hand to his chest. She flicks her eyes to his, gulping under his intense stare. He lets her hand go, but she leaves it there, resting against his chest, challenging his stare with her own.

"You can kiss me if you want," he smirks, fully expecting her to roll her eyes and go back to her easel. She doesn't though, she just narrows her eyes at him, as if she has him all figured out, before surging forward to kiss him. He barely registers what's happening at first and it takes him a second to respond, and by then she's already pulling away, embarrassed. He doesn't let her get too far though, dragging her back in to kiss her properly, pulling her onto his lap so she's straddling him. She pulls her shirt off and he unclips her bra so they're both naked from the waist up, and their pants don't last much longer than that. The stool is cast aside in favour of the floor.

"This is so not why I hired you," Clarke pants as Bellamy's fingers find their way between her legs.

"You keep telling yourself that, Princess," Bellamy grins into her mouth. "I still expect to be paid for my modelling services too."

Bellamy ends up staying the whole night, but Clarke doesn't exactly end up getting her artwork done.


End file.
